


Appah

by SociopathicArchangel



Series: 25 Lives [7]
Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: Gen, intermission fic #1, roy appears in 25 for the first time, though it's been planned for a very long time, timestamp: life 2 (25 Lives; pre-Prometheus: Bleedout and Flatline; Limbo), we're going non chrono again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociopathicArchangel/pseuds/SociopathicArchangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Manny visits his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appah

Keeping track of their family members ever since they learned they were being targeted was not a bad idea. In fact, it was very possible for the Concepts to use someone close to them to lure them out and kill them. So every now and then, in between trying to live normal lives and training, Robin tracked down where their families and relatives lived in (at least, the ones they knew of) and Shrignold kept an eye on them.

Of course, they never really expected the Concepts to be so stupid as to involve humans in the fray again, seeing as what happened to Paige and Tony. And they never did. Something that Harry, Manny and Robin are thankful for. Lord knows what would have happened if the Concepts decided to kidnap one of their parents or siblings, maybe even aunts, uncles or cousins to use against them.

They also had an agreement to keep their contact with their families only by writing or calling. The first reason was that their families would be suspicious that they never aged, and the second was that the Concepts didn’t seem to have a problem attacking them in public and they couldn’t risk the possibility of an attack while their loved ones were around. They were not going to be stupid enough to bring the fight to their families.

As it is, Harry and Robin are at the new flat they’d just moved in, none the wiser.

Manny, seventy three, sits by his father’s death bed.

He looks at the old man at the bed, sleeping peacefully and breathing through a mask on his face.

It’s been a while. A very long while – sixty four years, to be exact, since he’s last seen his father.

As a child, he didn’t understand why he had to be taken away and put under Harry’s care, his godfather. His mother was estranged from her family and she died giving birth to him, a loss he never really felt since he was just a baby. His father was an only child raised in an orphanage.

He understands now though, why they had to be separated.

He closes his eyes and massages his forehead as he remembers the times when his father would be kind one moment, and then shoving him aside and shouting at thin air the next. The first time Manny broke his arm was when his father trashed his study and Manny was stupid enough to open the door to peek. The man was livid and chased after him; the horrified child ran off as fast as he could, tripped down the stairs and landed on his arm.

He couldn’t help it when Shrignold pulled him aside and told him about what was happening, though. It wasn’t his father’s fault. He never asked for any of this. Manny still remembers the times Roy would tuck him in to bed, read him stories, teach him how to read, how to write, how to ride a bike.

Manny dwells on the memories of the man who would rather suffer to raise his child than put him in the system, not the one driven mad by hallucinations and mood swings.

He sighs heavily as he reopens his eyes to stare at his father.

A few hours from now, he knows, Roy is no longer going to be breathing. Maybe even minutes. He’s thankful that Shrignold told him about this, otherwise…he looks down.

Manny takes a deep breath. “So,” he starts, “It’s, uh…it’s me. Manny.”

A pause.

“Your son.”

He looks at the steady rise and fall of his father’s chest. If it weren’t for that, the man would have been mistaken for a corpse.

“It’s been a while. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you before, but it turned out you told Harry to keep your location a secret from me until I was old enough. And, life’s been really, really, insane for the past few years that I guess it just…slipped from my mind,” the corners of his mouth turn up for a second, “Sorry about that, that sounds sort of cruel.

“Anyway, I finished school. Elementary school was tough, bullies left and right, but I managed. Middle school was fine. High school was a huge blur, I can’t remember anything at all. College was great – I moved out of the house to live somewhere closer to the university so that meant zero contact with Tony and Paige for four years. They’re not important people, by the way, just troublemakers.”

Yeah, right. He snorts to himself. Well, he wasn’t really lying when he said they were troublemakers.

“Harry ‘s a really good man, you couldn’t have picked anyone better to be my godfather.” He chuckles. His voice is starting to go nasally and he sniffs, “Funny story, the first Father’s Day I spent at my new school, our teacher had us make cards for our dads and gave us customized mugs with ‘World’s No. 1 Dad’ written on them…and I would have given it to you, but – ” he sniffs, “No offense, Roy, but I’m pretty sure Harry’s more of my dad than you.

“Not for lack of trying, of course. I don’t blame you. You couldn’t have controlled any of this,” Manny reaches up to wipe the corners of his eyes, “Unless schizophrenia’s in our family history. Even so, you probably couldn’t have prevented it. Nice heads-up would have been appreciated just in case.”

He wrings his hands together and looks down the floor again. “That – that’s probably not going to happen now,” he heaves another sigh, “Something huge dropped on us, dad. Really huge. And I don’t think any inherited mental illness can go up against it.

“That Tony and Paige I told you about? They weren’t human and now they’re dead and we have to take their place in order to keep the world in balance. At least, that’s how Shrig explained it,” he says, “And their kind, the Concepts, aren’t too happy about it and they’re trying to kill us before we turn immortal.

“We’re faring well. We’re paranoid, yeah, but, we’re not dead.” Yet. “And we’ve got a Concept on our side. His name’s Shrignold,” he drops his voice to a whisper, “We don’t really think we can trust this guy, but we don’t have much of a choice when we’re being hunted down.”

Manny looks down at his watch. It’s only a few minutes until morning and the hospital starts being swarmed by people. He didn’t really check in for a proper visit.

His eyes flicker back to his bedridden father.

And snaps.

His face contorts, brows furrowing and tears streaming freely down his face as he sobs. He clenches his fists and grits his teeth.

“You know, this is really stupid,” Manny strains to keep his voice down, but it’s getting harder when all he wants to do is scream at the man who’s supposed to be his father to wake up, “ _Sixty four years,_ dad! I have sixty four years’ worth of words and feelings to say to you, and all I have is half a damn hour and you’re not even awake to hear them.

“You were supposed to be the one to listen to me complain about everything, you know? You were supposed to give me chores and set my curfew and yell at me for coming home late. You were supposed to be the one to tell me to do my homework and call me downstairs for dinner. You were supposed to be making my life miserable and enjoyable at the same and  _guess what, old man?!”_ he abruptly rises from his chair and ignores it as it falls over, “I did most of that myself! I talked to myself about everything because I didn’t think anyone would want to listen. I found my own chores and did them. I did my homework without being told and went to dinner without being told!

“I know I had Harry and Robin, but – ” he motions with his hands and groans, “It took a lot of time. It’s different. It’s like talking to your psychiatrist who’s supposed to know things about you so they can help you, but it’s still so uncomfortable.” Manny messes up his hair in frustration, “I didn’t want a godfather and a friend, Roy, I wanted my  _dad._ ”

Manny furiously scrubs his knuckles against his eyes, “My life was shit and you weren’t there to see it. You weren’t even there to pat me on the back and tell me ‘good job’.” He throws his head back and the laugh that comes out is hysterical, “Even now, you’re still doing a bang-up job of being a father. The first and last time I’ll ever get to see you and it’s a one-sided conversation.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. He waits until his chest stops heaving with every breath he takes from his not-so-much of a shouting match.

Manny’s shoulders sag, “…it’s not your fault, though.”

He sits down the floor and wraps his arms around himself, “You were only looking out for me. You knew you would have done more harm than good if you kept me around.” He tries to curl up into a ball, “I’m the shitty son for wanting everything to be about me.”

He spends the rest of his remaining time in the hospital on the floor, rocking back and forth, crying.

Before he leaves, he kisses his father’s forehead, murmurs an ‘I’m sorry for everything’ and an ‘I love you.’

He doesn’t look back as he leaves the hospital.

 

* * *

 

“Manny, there’s a letter for you.”

Manny raises an eyebrow as Robin sets the yellowed envelope on the coffee table and proceeds to the kitchen to give Harry his mail for the day. He hasn’t even found a job yet and Robin’s already set up their fake identities so anyone who knew them from before would have a hard time mailing their letters to people who didn’t exist anymore.

“Shrignold delivered it, by the way,” Robin calls back.

“Huh.” That gets his interest. Manny picks the article up and cringes. There’s a thin layer of dust on it. He flips the envelope over to see who it’s addressed to.

He nearly drops it as his hands shake and go numb.

Manny steels himself and slowly picks the letter back up, walks to his room as calmly as possible, locks the door behind him before pressing his back against it to sink to the floor and sob.

Written on the back of the envelope is his father’s name.

Addressed to ‘my pride and joy; my son: Manny.’

 

* * *

 

 

Roy dies a few hours after Manny leaves and Shrignold is around to see it. Not that any of the humans notice him, of course, but he is just outside the window as he watches the doctors attempt to resuscitate the old man and fail.

He also sticks around when the humans go to find his will. There is a statement there that says he has a letter hidden in his house addressed to his son and that he wanted them to give it to him.

Shrignold knows they wouldn’t find Manny anymore, so he waits for the humans to mention where Roy lives, gets there before they do and loots the area for the letter.

He drops the old envelope in shock when he feels a spike of emotions race from the object up his arm and into his brain.

Shrignold groans as he holds his head in one hand while the other supports his weight from where he’s crouched down and nearly keeled over. He looks at the envelope, yellowed and crinkled from age and possibly from being hidden under the floorboards and his brows knit together.

Gingerly, he touches it again.

There’s that rush of warmth again, but this time, instead of being painful from the shock, it spreads throughout his head and to the rest of his body and Shrignold  _knows_ that this is the element he’s supposed to represent. This letter, old and worn and written from a long time ago, is heaped with layers upon layers of unadulterated love.

He doesn’t notice he’s closed his eyes until he opens them and realizes that he’s crying.

Humans, they’re so interesting. For a single old envelope containing words on paper to have  _magic_ enough to make him  _feel_ and  _hear_ everything that’s written on the letter…that is impressive. That is very impressive.

Shrignold wipes his tears away with his free hand and chokes out a sob.

_I’m so sorry, Manny,_ is what he constantly hears from the words in the envelope.

_And though I know we will not see each other again and this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear from me, know this – I love you. I have always loved you and I will never stop loving you. I’m not sending you away because I don’t, but because I love you too much to make myself hurt you. I’ll never forgive myself for all the pain I’ve caused you because of my…sickness._

And  _shit,_ Shrignold wants to stay there for the rest of the day and cry. He can hear it, the father’s own sobs as he wrote down the last thing his son was ever going to hear from him.

Shrignold wonders to himself, if what Humour said was true, did his mother separate them because she loved him? Or was that story flawed?

He takes off his scarf and wraps it around the envelope before sniffing and wiping off his tears. He’s got a letter to deliver.

 

 


End file.
